brogues,9 worth fifty thousand pounds.
Stuck on the pane two flies buzzed, stuck.
Glowing wine on his palate lingered swallowed. Crushing in the winepress grapes of Burgundy. Sun's heat it is. Seems to a secret touch telling me memory. Touched his sense moistened remembered. Hidden under wild ferns on Howth. Below us bay sleeping sky. No sound. The sky. The bay purple by the Lion's head. Green by Drumleck. Yellowgreen towards Sutton. Fields of undersea, the lines faint brown in grass, buried cities. Pillowed on my coat
6. The Berlin street that contained the offices of ditional rights to certain kinds of fish or game. the 'Planters' Company' (see n. 6, p. 2227). Bloom goes on to imagine a Dublin butcher having 7. Cream of the cream (i.e., the very best, a 'right to venisons of the forest from his socially). ex[cellency]'?i.e., the viceroy. 8. Ail sturgeon caught in or off Britain were the 9. A basket of shoes. property of the king, according to the ancient tra
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ULYSSES [LESTRYGONIANS] / 22 17
she had her hair, earwigs in the heather scrub my hand under her nape, you'll toss me all. O wonder! Coolsoft with ointments her hand touched me, caressed: her eyes upon me did not turn away. Ravished over her I lay, full lips full open, kissed her mouth. Yum. Softly she gave me in my mouth the seedcake warm and chewed. Mawkish pulp her mouth had mumbled sweet and sour with spittle. Joy: I ate it: joy. Young life, her lips that gave me pouting. Soft, warm, sticky gumjelly lips. Flowers her eyes were, take me, willing eyes. Pebbles fell. She lay still. A goat. No-one. High on Ben Howth rhododendrons a nannygoat walking surefooted, dropping currants. Screened under ferns she laughed warmfolded. Wildly I lay on her, kissed her, eyes, her lips, her stretched neck, beating, woman's breasts full in her blouse of nun's veiling, fat nipples upright. Hot I tongued her. She kissed me. I was kissed. All yielding she tossed my hair. Kissed, she kissed me.1
Me. And me now.
Stuck, the flies buzzed.
His downcast eyes followed the silent veining of the oaken slab. Beauty: it curves: curves are beauty. Shapely goddesses, Venus, Juno: curves the world admires. Can see them library museum standing in the round hall, naked goddesses. Aids to digestion. They don't care what man looks. All to see. Never speaking, I mean to say to fellows like Flynn. Suppose she did Pygmalion and Galatea2 what would she say first? Mortal! Put you in your proper place. Quaffing nectar at mess with gods, golden dishes, all ambrosial. Not like a tanner lunch we have, boiled mutton, carrots and turnips, bottle of Allsop. Nectar, imagine it drinking electricity: god's food. Lovely forms of women sculped Junonian. Immortal lovely. And we stuffing food in one hole and out behind: food, chyle, blood, dung, earth, food: have to feed it like stoking an engine. They have no. Never looked. I'll look today. Keeper won't see. Bend down let something see if she.
Dribbling a quiet message from his bladder came to go to do not to do there to do. A man and ready he drained his glass to the lees and walked, to men too they gave themselves, manly conscious, lay with men lovers, a youth enjoyed her, to the yard.
When the sound of his boots had ceased Davy Byrne said from his book:
?What is this he is? Isn't he in the insurance line?
?He's out of that long ago, Nosey Flynn said. He does canvassing for the
Freeman.
?I know him well to see, Davy Byrne said. Is he in trouble?
?Trouble? Nosey Flynn said. Not that I heard of. Why?
?I noticed he was in mourning.
?Was he? Nosey Flynn said. So he was, faith. I asked him how was all at home. You're right, by God. So he was. ?I never broach the subject, Davy Byrne said humanely, if I see a gentleman is in trouble that way. It only brings it up fresh in their minds. ?It's not the wife anyhow, Nosey Flynn said. I met him the day before yesterday and he coming out of that Irish farm dairy John Wyse Nolan's wife
I. Bloom is remembering when he first proposed lost my breath .. . I saw he understood or felt what to Molly, on the Hill of Howth, near Dublin. Molly a woman is and I knew I could always get round also recalls this in the final episode ('Penelope'), him and I gave him all the pleasure I could leading which is her soliloquy: 'we were lying among the him on.' rhododendrons on Howth head in the gray tweed 2. In Greek mythology Pygmalion, king of Cyprus, suit and his straw hat the day I got him to propose sculpted a statue of the goddess Aphrodite that to me yes . . . my God after that long kiss I near became a mortal woman, Galatea.
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223 4 / JAMES JOYCE
has in Henry street with a jar of cream in his hand taking it home to his better
half. She's well nourished, I tell you. Plovers on toast.
?And is he doing for the Freeman} Davy Byrne said.
Nosey Flynn pursed his lips.
?He doesn't buy cream on the ads he picks up. You can make bacon of that.
?How so? Davy Byrne asked, coming from his book.
Nosey Flynn made swift passes in the air with juggling fingers. He winked.
?He's in the craft,3 he said.
?Do you tell me so? Davy Byrne said.
?Very much so, Nosey Flynn said. Ancient free and accepted order. Light, life and love, by God. They give him a leg up. I was told that by a, well, I won't say who.
?Is that a fact?
